Dislocations
by ForevermoreNevermore
Summary: Mustang sends Edward on a mission: to kill the kidnapper running rampant in Kenter. Only after his young protege leave, does the Flame Alchemist realize the extent that this kidnapper goes to to ensure his victims a slow death. Rated T for violence.
1. The Town Called Kenter

_Okay, here we go with another one! *groans* Oh shut up! *throws book* Anywho, I hope you like it, and I'm prewarning you... NOW! It you like yaoi, this isn't it. It's more a parential Roy thing. And if you don't like yaoi, this IS it. I guess you might consider it yaoi if you squint, hop on one foot, and drink some Brisk, while counting backwards from infininty. Anywho... '3' hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist._

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_**The Town Called Kenter**_

Like an icy wind, the two stared at each other, onyx eyes glaring into golden eyes. They both looked like statues, neither moving for minutes, and when it seems the minutes would encroach upon hours, the shorter of the two snorted and broke the stare. "You're fooling yourself. I won't do it."

Mustang gave a signature sneer and turned to the papers before him, his small and childish victory won and tucked under his belt. "Yes you will. You need this position."

"Like I need a hole in my head."

"It's not like anything much would fall out. We both know you need the military cover so cut the crap. You, being the obedient dog that you are, will investigate this man," he continued folding the paper, then judged the weight and threw it at his protégé. It landed on his lap. "And I, being the brilliant and dashing," insert Ed's snort. "Lieutenant Colonel, will calmly sit back, do the paperwork, and wait for you to return with this man trussed up like a Thanksgiving Turkey."

"But…!"

"Fullmetal…" there was a dangerous tone underneath the single word.

"But…!"

"I know that's not all you can say, but I know you so I'm glad that's all you are saying." Ed stood up, nearly knocking back the chair.

"C'mon Mustang! Cut me a break, will ya? I need to get looking for the Philosopher's Stone again, not for some crazy psycho in," he glanced down at the paper, then back up at the smug 20-something year old. "Kenter! I just got back from your last mission and that nearly got me killed!"

"Well that's not my fault," Mustang replied coolly, still content that he had won. "You just need to fight smarter. Maybe try a different tactic than your usual run in with your guns blazing ploy." Edward felt his gaskets breaking in his mind, and however comical it was, could practically picture the steam flying out of his ears. Finally, he sighed, defeated at last, but only because he held in about library full of comments.

"Fine, but if I die, I'm blaming it on you." He muttered, turning around and exiting, slamming the door behind him.

"Like I'd get that lucky," Mustang joked, still filing through his papers. Outside, Edward was livid, storming out of the building and rampaging past his waiting brother, who instantly bombarded him with questions.

"Brother! What's wrong? What happened? Do we have another mission? What did Mustang want? Brother!?" Edward sighed and just kept walking, answering the questions in order and with minimum words.

"Dang Mustang," he paused and grinned, "Dang Mustang, yes, to get a lower dog to do his bidding." Al gave a childish laugh, betraying his large size to his actual age.

"Where are we going? Do you think we'll find any leads?" Ed laughed at his brother's easily aroused excitement, now in a better mood. He thought about the latter question for a moment, but never halted his quickened pace to the train station.

"We're going to a town called Kenter to find some psycho kidnapper and 'detain' him." He gave a snort, "Mustang's fancy way of saying kill the guy before he causes more trouble. I don't know, hopefully this will be quick and harmless," he stopped talking to his brother to buy two tickets to Kenter, ask how long the trip would be, and then bid a polite, albeit grumpy, good day.

"Great," Ed grumbled, sitting on the hard train seats, though they were used to them, but _**Good God **_it got monotonous. "A two hour ride to nowhere." He knew he was complaining, but frankly he didn't care. At the moment, he just wanted to get this small hurdle over with, so he could run the rest of the race.

"Ed?" Al asked, his voice tinny and quiet. It took a moment, but the blond alchemist grunted in response. "Why do you think Colonel Mustang keeps giving you the tough jobs?" Edward sighed, not really feeling like looking the little kid with the big mouth on the train.

"How should I know? Probably just can't wait for me to fail so he can kick me out."

Alphonse seemed taken aback by his brother's abrupt answer. "Mustang wouldn't do that! Would he?" Ed shrugged, but never let his gaze wander from the leaping countryside.

"I don't know, but you asked for my opinion," his voice was slightly muffled by the white glove as he leaned into his hand. The rest of the train ride passed uneventful and boring. The train moved too fast for the countryside to be of any entertainment, and all wells of conversation between the brothers had long since dried up. All ideas of games or anything that would make give them entertainment had disappeared like the countryside. So, the boredom slowly leeched into drowsiness and that gave way to sleep for the Fullmetal Alchemist.

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Alphonse didn't have the heart to wake his slumbering brother, knowing this would probably be the only time for days or weeks that the young man would get any sleep. And besides, he looked so cute when he slept, all worry fell off like his braid sliding off his shoulder. His aged face actually looked it's age as he slowly leaned against the window.

Al sighed, shaking his head slightly, and glaring at the glint of automail that peeked out from that small space between his white glove and jacket. _Your automail should be gone by now! But instead you're stuck running around…_ he clenched his fist, reminding himself that, he too, wasn't quite himself.

Suddenly, the train lurched, causing the alchemist to slowly slide off his hand, mumble something in his sleep, then catch himself before he fell out of his chair.

"Crap!" he muttered, orienting himself enough to curse rather lividly. He rubbed absently at the red spot on his cheek and glared out the window. "Are we really already there?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yup! You were asleep for a long time brother." Al laughed, standing up and looking down at his brother. Said brother muttered something incomprehensible and stood up, shaking off nonexistent dirt, then gently pushed his brother into the aisle.

"Hurry up! I wanna' get this over with," his voice still showed evidence of sleep as his words were slightly slurred, and Al giggled inwardly. _He always was a slow riser._ "Al!"

His name came out in an annoyed moan as he realized he had stopped in the middle of the aisle. "Oops," the younger brother muttered, hurrying down the train aisle, bumping almost everybody sitting down and letting out a meek 'sorry'. Once they made it out of the train (alive), Ed let out a drowsy chuckle.

"And I thought I was socially awkward." Al turned to make a retort, but when he turned around, his brother was already walking away, heading into the town. Without a word, he ran after his brother, admiring the town at the same time. It looked like an old western, with one big road right down the middle (of which Ed was currently sauntering down the middle of) and smaller alleys branching off. Tall buildings glared down at the street, and the iron soul thought he could feel curious eyes peering at him through the windows. As he passed a small alley, he glanced down it through the corner of his eyes. He could feel a chill, knowing that the kidnapping predator was probably lurking in the dark shadows, leering at the children, waiting to steal them.

Ed stopped and turned to his left, admiring a building with a slight tilt of his head. His brother finally caught up and asked the question he'd been thinking. "Brother? Why would a kidnapper stay here?" Ed chuckled darkly and stared down the road for a moment then glanced up at a building and there was the telltale snap of a shudder.

He turned his golden gaze to the sand and shook his head, "It may not look like much, but that's because everyone's hiding. There are plenty of kids here, Al, but the parents have finally got wise," he sighed and stepped up to the building, opening the door and pulling out his stopwatch at the same time. Al would've asked him where they were, but he was interrupted by quite a sight that struck him with déjà vu.

Men in uniforms ran around the small building, slamming down a folder, or picking one up every now and then. Phones were ringing off the hook and Al wondered for a moment why he couldn't hear it outside. They looked like bees in a honeycomb, and they were the intruders. Ed took a single step forward and everyone, everything, stopped and turned to look at him. Ed held up his pocket watch deftly as a sign of good faith, and put on his signature smirk.

"I need to speak to the mayor." He announced, using all the cockiness and authority that came with being such a high-ranked alchemist at such a young age. Only one man stood forward, placing down a folder and muttering a quick goodbye to the phone. He regarded Ed with frosty blue eyes, respect apparent, but the respect came up short compared to the frosty look in his eyes.

"Are _you_ the alchemist they sent?" his voice asked, rough with experience. Ed's cockiness seemed to wither slightly at the man's cool regard.

"Yes!" his voice slightly higher as he indignantly tried to recover. The man gave a snort of resignation and turned to the back of the room,

"Follow me," he muttered, walking through the crowd. Al followed as his brother drew himself up as high as he could (which wasn't really much) and made a beeline after him, ignoring the gazes shot his way, as they were all from above him. They stopped at a door, though it wasn't decorated at all, and the man straightened up, managing to grunt before the door opened. "I'm Sheriff Julian Conner." Before Ed could even utter a response, the door opened and a man greeted them.

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He wasn't really old, in fact he was younger than Conner, who was brunette but graying. His dark eyes were guarded as he carefully appraised Edward. He looked him up and down, his sharp eyes not missing a single hair on his head. Ed felt a shiver run its tendrils down his spine. His clothes hung loosely around his thin frame, making him look like a little kid who had tried to put on his father's clothes. His face hadn't been marred by wrinkles, but when his face broke into a grin, his eyes crinkled up softly.

"Why, you must be Edward Elric!" he gently grabbed said alchemist's arm and shook it. "I'm so glad you're here! You don't know what this means to me, that the busy government in central took the time out to send out a _state _alchemist to help out cause!" he suddenly paused, his happy expression turning slightly darker. "If you don't mind me asking," he asked, his voice lowering as he still gripped Ed's hand, "how old are you?"

The blond was taken aback for a moment, not used to being asked how old he was, merely being taken for a short adult. He actually had to think about it for a moment. "Fourteen," he answered, the word felt weird, foreign, on his tongue as he was not used to saying it. The mayor seemed almost as taken aback as Edward had been.

"Fourteen…" he echoed, his eyes once again becoming guarded. "Not a child, but not old enough to be an adult." His whisper suddenly raised to a normal voice. "The government is sure finding some young talent these days, aren't they?" he laughed, but it sounded rusty and hardly used.

"Uh… yes sir…"

"Call me Xald, sir sounds so… stuffy." He squeezed Ed's hand for a second before releasing and retreating back into his office. "Come in, come in." The door opened wider to reveal an office with papers scattered around the room, almost making it look alike a tree slaughter house. Books were stacked around the room, opening their bindings and daring anyone whom came around to be drawn in by their alluring words. Ed glanced out the corner of his eyes at one of the books, glancing over a sentence. _Then, last you remove the bone…_ Ed felt his mouth draw up into a confused scowl. _A cooking mayor? _He banished the thought, cause who honestly didn't have their little habits? Still walking into the room, he glanced up at the mayor, and stopped in his tracks when he found himself starring into the dark eyes of Xald. It scared him that even as he caught him red handed, he kept staring at him, his gaze never wavering from his golden pools.

Ed swallowed, trying to work up the words to say, though his mind was muddled. "Can I use your phone? I need to call and tell my higher-ups I've arrived safely," it came out hushed, but the mayor nodded towards his own phone, his eyes never leaving the blond as he walked over and dialed the number.

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Though dozing, the Lieutenant Colonel had managed to stay upright in his chair with a paper in front of his face, looking for the entire world like a dutiful man reading a document. Still, he was disgruntled when the door to his office flew open to reveal a rather hurried Hughes.

"Hey, Roy!" he said it loudly, though there was no need. It was quiet in the office, and Roy's foggy mind really didn't want to hear it. "Have you heard from Edward yet?" his face, at first weary and slightly scared, now turned ecstatic. "And have you heard my darling Elicia talk yet? She's talking like a regular little social butterfly!"

"Hughes! What do you want?" The Flame Alchemist's short temper was even shorter, about as short as his nap. Maes seemed to lapse back to what he was talking about.

"Well, it's about that mission you sent Ed on, we just found some new stuff," he dropped the folder on the already crowded desk, threatening to make everything overflow, but Roy only regarded it coolly.

"Okay, I'll get to it," he looked back to his paper and pretended to read it. But, he soon realized that his friend had other plans. The paper in his hands disappeared and it was replaced swiftly by the manila folder. Roy blinked, trying to figure out exactly _why_ he was seeing things.

"Roy," Hughes asked, his voice conversational, "How old is Ed, exactly?" Roy pretended to think, but he knew it down to the day. He opened his mouth to answer as Hughes sat on the desk, regardless of the papers.

"Fourteen," he answered, deftly flipping open the folder to look at the information. There was a small stack of pictures, so he looked at that first, though immediately wishing he hadn't. He felt his stomach turn, and a searing flash of fear lashed out in his stomach and settle down, leaving a burning horror that lingered and wasn't going to go away anytime soon. He opened his mouth, but Hughes beat him to it.

"Those children all range from ten to fifteen. They were missing three days before they showed up dead."

"They weren't just killed," Roy muttered, a growl growing in his throat. Hughes grunted and Roy watched as he took off his glasses and gently blew on them, rubbing them on his shirt.

"You're right about that. They were killed and then their bones were removed." He put his glasses back on. "Or, their bones were removed and then they were killed. This man's sick, and he's just running around, rampant." He stopped and gave the Flame Alchemist a look, then turning his dark gaze to the phone. "I figured I should show you that, seeing how he _is_ serving under you. That information could help, and," his face turned serious, deathly. "Anything that happens to him could be blamed on you for not telling him anything." Roy really didn't need his friend to tell him that. He had the information and he was going to pull his protégé out of there. He'd send in someone older, not at a risk for this psycho killer to get his hands on. He tried to keep his mind from picturing the young man in that danger, but nevertheless… he shuddered, thoughts always found a way to sneak in.

Roy reached for the phone, but almost as soon as his fingers touched it, it rang. The two jumped before he picked it up and answered.

"Hello?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Mustang?" Roy let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He was safe and the horror in his stomach died down a bit, but it was strange, Ed never called him by his title.

"Edw-Fullmetal!" he paused to catch his breath and speak his normal and cool tone. "I take it you've made it to Kenter?" Hughes regarded him coolly for a minute, before hopping off the desk and walking over to the door. He opened the door a crack, then turned to look at Mustang, his gaze thoughtful.

"I'd be careful, Roy. If you keep it up, people," he took his gaze to the ceiling then back down, "might just think this is too personal for you." And then he disappeared out the door, leaving Roy to stew on that thought. He turned back to Ed's voice, and it was uncharacteristically quiet and respectful.

"Yes sir. We made it here safe and we're speaking with the mayor." That explained it. Mustang let out a chuckle and settled back in his chair, the burning horror hardly there.

"So that's why you're talking so respectfully. I thought something happened for a minute, you've never been so uptight." He could practically see Ed seething on the other side of the phone.

"Yes sir," but his voice was perfectly in check. Roy sniffed and picked up the folder, flapping it open and trying not to look at the pictures.

He cleared his throat, "I've got some information for you. I want you to come back here and I'll give it to you," he knew that if he told him to get out of town, he'd stay and probably get himself into more trouble.

"Why can't you just tell me over the phone?" he asked and Roy sighed, this was probably going to end in a fight.

"Because I need you to get out of that town!" There was a sharp cough on the other side of the line.

"Why? Just tell me the information, I'll catch the suspect, and then I'll come back." There was a muttering on the other side of the phone. "And if I come back now, some other child might get killed."

"Fullmetal, I am your commanding officer, you _will_ come back and you will not say another word!" his voice had risen to a quiet shout and he could just picture the other people staring at the boy.

"I can handle it," his voice now constricted as he tried to keep calm. "Just give me the information, it'll make this a quicker search so I can get back. You know I'll stay anyway, so why not just make it easier for me?" Apparently, the mayor was forgotten as he broke though his strained respect and came out with his anger.

"Fullmetal, you're age puts you right in the target range! You could be the next child killed!" His voice grew louder. "And I'm sure you don't want your bones forcibly removed from your body!" There was a pause as the facts seemed to sink in on the petite alchemist, then there was a sigh.

"I'm not a child," he muttered, his voice dangerously border lining a snarl. "Bones?" There was a soft waver in his voice as if he had just seen a particularly scary scene. Mustang covered the phone so he could sigh with relief, he had him on the ropes.

"Yes, we don't know which order it happens in, but the kid's bones are removed and by the time we find them, you can hardly tell what it is. And, the ages all range from ten to fifteen, you fit right in there."

"Thank you for the information," Fullmetal's courtesy was back in place and Roy knew he'd lost him, the fear and horror whipped again in his stomach. "Seeing as I'm right in that age group, I'll probably be able find him that much easier. I'll be sure to catch this man and return as quickly as I can."

"Full-" but he was gone, and the phone dinged obnoxiously in his ear. He placed it down and poured himself over the papers in the folder, trying to find a small loophole, small enough for the short alchemist to fit through.

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He stared at his next victim, his fingers clenching and unclenching. So, he thought that it would be easy to catch him? Ha, no one would ever catch him. Such a young, gorgeous person. Eyes full of life and such a young, fit body, he was going to be fun to catch. He always did like gold, but mixed with crimson… he gave an excited shudder, hardly able to contain his anticipation.

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_Bwa-ha-ha-*hick*. Sorry, that's my like-to-torment-characters part coming out. I hope you enjoyed it! Review and you get a cyber Starbucks! *holds out coffee*_


	2. A Wild Mustang's Cries

_And so I'm back... from outer space... (I do not own that song) Here's the next chapter, and I'm sorry I said I'd give you a cyber Starbucks and I forgot some people! ToT Here, take as many as you want!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

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Ed replanted the phone on it's hook and shook his head. _Stupid, stupid Mustang… always worried about nothing._ Yet his concern warmed the young boy, and his news frightened him.

"So, was it bad news?" the mayor dragged him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see an anticipating gleam in his eyes. He glanced at his brother, who probably would've been pale if he wasn't made of unfeeling iron.

"Not really, just a jumpy lieutenant colonel. He told me the gory little details about the kidnapper."

"So, the details have gone all the way to the government?" he was surprised, but seemingly happy about this news. Ed anxiously twiddled with his braid before turning his gaze to the mayor. "I'm glad it got that far, or you probably wouldn't be here," he supplied quickly, shrugging his shoulders in embarrassment. Conner gave a gruff cough, and Xald turned to look at him.

"Yes, Julian?" he asked, gently walking around the desk to his friend. The sheriff muttered something to the mayor, and Ed listened as intently as he could, but could still hear nothing. They finished with a laugh from Xald. "What a good idea! I'm surprised I didn't think of it!" He clapped Conner on the back before turning to the two brothers. "My friend just had a marvelous idea! Since you boys are here helping us, you can stay at my place! No need to pay for an inn!" That idea struck Edward's cheapskate side like a tuning fork.

"Is there really enough room?" Al spoke up, his voice echoing timidly. There was another laugh, and a cough that was probably the best the haggard sheriff could do.

"Of course, my dear boy! My house is the biggest one in town! I've got too many rooms!" Ed stood up, his chair scraping against the floor and supplied his own chuckle.

"I'll take you up on your offer, Xald. Thanks," he walked to the door and the metallic footsteps of his brother followed. "Well, I'm off to look around. Bye!" The door closed obnoxiously behind them, but it was lost in the chatter of the office.

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Mustang flipped through the papers again; the hostile fear still whipped his stomach. Like a slave it drove him on, he glanced at the pictures then read the papers again, looking for some clue. But, there was no pattern, no identifying mark that connected the victims besides their age. Their parents owned different stores around the town, but none had control over anything besides their small plots of land. _Nothing worse than a kidnapper who doesn't care who he's kidnapping._ He placed them in order, and followed the small pattern he noticed there. _Girl, boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl…_ and that was the last one to die. A young girl by the name of Anni. The fear wrapped around his stomach and constricted. Instead of finding a loophole, he just made it all the more clearer… Edward was going to die. He looked again at the pictures; none of the hair colors were the same. There was a pink-yellow_ strawberry blonde_, a deep brunette that was almost black haired, a pale brunette, _dirty blonde_, raven, vivid red, pale red, silver, and a brunette the color of bark. But no straight up gold, not one of the murdered children had Edward's aureate hair, none that shimmered the same way, none. The murderer had been dancing around, flirting with the gold, waiting for the perfect one. And he had found one.

All his digging only rewarded him with a deeper feeling of fear, the murderer was running out of hair colors, and Edward was one of the only colors left. _Unless the guy finds cotton candy pink,_ the lieutenant colonel thought with dreadful humor. He stood up and threw open his door, greeted by Riza's hardened gaze.

"Lieutenant Colonel?" she asked, her voice politely cool. Her apathetic voice grated against Roy's harried nerves.

"Hawkeye, we need tickets to Kenter. If the train's leaving now, stall it." He ordered, his usual voice cracking slightly. That got the girl's attention.

"Is something wrong? You seem unusually stressed," she remarked, putting down her folder and looking down a paper. Slowly, she picked up the phone.

"Hurry up!" he snapped, prompting her to dial faster. "We need to get there as quick as possible!" _If he's not going to leave, I'm going to look after him._

"Isn't that the town you sent the Elrics to?" she asked as she put the phone to her ear and asked for the train station.

"Yes, and we've got to hurry up! That little brat refuses to listen to reason!" he huffed, pacing before her. Hawkeye asked for the train to be stalled, then hung up the phone.

"Sir, what's wrong with Edward?" she asked, her voice radiating calm. This quieted his unrest a bit.

Roy took a deep breath and headed for the door. "The kidnappings that are happening in Kenter, Edward fits right in with his victims."

"Did you try telling him?" _She thinks I'm overreacting._

"Yes, he won't listen! He's going to have his bones pulled out before he believes me," he took a deep breath. "I know you think I'm overreacting, but we've never sent an officer to investigate something like this before, with him fitting right in with the other victims. If I don't do something, It'll feel just as bad as if I put the gun to his head myself." he glanced sideways at Hawkeye, but her face stayed the same rock-hard calm.

"We've never had someone as young as him, either." She retorted softly. Roy's spine froze, but he continued walking. He opened his mouth to argue, but she gently shook her head. "Do you think we'll be enough?" That question struck him.

"Pardon?"

"Do you think the two of us will be enough? Or do you think we should gather some troops. It would better our odds." Roy stopped and glanced back at the building. The strategic part of his mind knew she was right, but the more protective part yearned to grab Edward and shove him in a suitcase until the kidnapper was found (Heaven knows he's small enough). He bit the inside of his lip in indecision. "It's always better to be more prepared than unprepared." She reasoned.

"Fine," as much as he fancied the suitcase idea, the thought of being so close, yet so far, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

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Al kneeled down beside his brother, who was already squatting beside the bloodstained sand. The two had already investigated the other places where the bodies had been found, this was the last one. With every scene, the younger Elric had wanted to throw up (though he knew it to be physically impossible). The blood had congealed the sand into small globs, and by the looks of the sand, there had been plenty of the crimson liquid.

Then a memory hit him, "brother, when you had talked to Lieutenant colonel Mustang, why were you so polite? You _never _talk to him like that!" His brother gave a grunt, and sat down well out of the range of the blood.

"I was by that mayor guy," he answered, relaxing into the shadow-cooled sand.

"So?"

Ed shuddered, though scorching, "he gives me the creeps! It just felt, weird, not to talk polite in front of him," he seemed to have trouble expressing his feelings.

"So you felt like you had to?" Al put in, causing Ed's face to brighten.

"Yeah!" But it still made no sense to the younger of the two. Suddenly, Edward kicked a boot-full of sand over the bloody spot. "These murders are sick! So much blood, and those poor kids, left boneless. I can't imagine going through that torture." His yellow eyes seemed pained, and his body trembled.

"Brother?"

"It's nothing." He stood up, and examined the bloody spot some more. Alphonse just watched as his brother guarded his eyes and he turned into the emotionless dog of the military he swore he'd never become.

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He gently sharpened the rusty knife, watching as the red flaked off and fell to the stained ground beneath him. He loved the sharp squeak it made as it raked against the stone, sounding like the squeal of a child. Once he had his fill of it, he placed it beside his other wicked tools. He was all set for his ochroid little boy, the all-too-frequent shudders racked through his body, his anticipation almost a tangible thing that thickened the air around him.

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Edward stopped at the small restaurant, ordering plenty of food, enough to feed a small militia. The dread in his stomach couldn't be smothered by food, though, as he stuffed in as much food as his small form could take.

"I thought we would eat with Xald," Al muttered, watching as Ed ate more and more. Fullmetal scoffed and put down his fork.

"I'd hate to inconvenience him even more," his voice was an odd mix of respect and loathing. Al cocked his head like an abandoned dog.

"You're unusually respectful," he laughed, and Ed flinched. He picked up his fork and dug into his steak once again.

"Oh shut up Al! I just feel like being respectful, you got a problem with that?" he mumbled around his steak. But that wasn't the reason either, that man, Xald, had an odd effect on him. It made him want to act respectful, like he _should_ be respectful. Then the dread flinched in his stomach at the thought of the man. _What if that crackpot Mustang's right?

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_I know it's short, but it's a calm-before-the-storm chapter, so I hope you liked it. More cyber Starbucks for give!_

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	3. The Snake and the Mouse

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Wow! Thank you all for your reviews and your support! It took longer than I expected to get this thing done... but I got it done! As before, if I forgot anybody, here's your Starbucks now!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist._

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The door opened without a hitch, sliding smoothly on oiled hinges. Edward stepped in and was quickly greeted by a mellow Xald.

"Ah, good evening Fullmetal Alchemist. I take it you found your way around easy enough?" he questioned, ushering them inside and closing the door soundlessly behind them.

"Yes sir, the townspeople were really timid, though," Alphonse's tinny voice said, the high octave wavering slightly.

"Well, you can hardly blame them, can you?" he asked rhetorically. The two brothers came to a stop once they had reached the middle of the grand entryway. Ed glanced up at the dangling chandelier.

"Nice place you got here," he muttered, drinking in the lush surroundings eagerly. No detail was spared from his golden gaze. The golden statues that gleamed even in their reflections cast on the marble floors. Vases shaped like ladies filled with flowers bloomed around the room while the candles set dancing shadows against the walls.

"Ah yes," he nodded. "That's what age and a high position gets you." He gently corralled them out of the hall up a beautiful flight of stairs. "Now, you children are probably tired so allow me to show you to your rooms."

"Rooms?" Al's voice rose another octave in question. Xald smiled kindly at the suit of armor and placed his hands on their backs to steer them down the hallway.

"Yes," he chuckled, "I have so many rooms I don't know what to do with them all!" Xald continued to ramble about his house before coming to a stop. "I guess you ate dinner out?"

"Yes sir," Al nodded his helmet and the mayor nodded.

Xald started walking again. "At Anne's no doubt. She makes an amazing sirloin!" Finally, he came to another stop at the end of the hallway where on either side was a door. Ed glanced at his brother, but he wouldn't meet his gaze.

"But we usually share a room." Alphonse argued feebly. Still, the mayor reached over and opened the doors.

"Nonsense! I wouldn't hear of it! What's the use of having such a big house if I shove my two esteemed guests into the same room?" and he proceeded to shove his two 'esteemed guests' into separate rooms, then gently close the door. "Good night!"

Edward stumbled into the room. "G'night," he muttered to the plain room. He felt like he was in a hospital room. The walls, the bed, everything in the room was a starch white. The shadows were a sharp contrast. The black shadow webs that hung from the furniture. Every crease in the bedspread left room for a dark endless shadow. It was eerily quiet, the only sound being the hiss of the burning candles. So, it echoed loudly around the room when something clicked. The Fullmetal Alchemist turned around to the door, where the clicking sound still seemed to resonate from. He gently turned on the knob, but was rejected.

The young boy's attempts turned desperate shakes as he rattled the knob. The sturdy door didn't even budge.

"Hey!" He shouted through the door. "Xald, I think your door's stuck!" but the pit in his stomach seemed to be telling him something else. A dark and heavy chuckle floated through the door.

"Sleep little alchemist," he laughed then his presence was gone. Ed threw his automail hand at the door yet it still refused to budge. Finally, his title came back to him and he snapped his hands together, grinning.

"Over your dead body," he hissed, placing his hands on the door. His eyes widened in suspense of the blue lightening but to his own shock there was none. The sense of power was there, but it was restrained in his fingertips. It tingled obnoxiously as if yelling and taunting him.

Grunting, he removed his gloves and tried again. Again and again he slammed his hands to the doorframe, yet again and again there was no lightening. Each time his demands of his power were much more volatile. Progressively, his eyes became hooded and his whole body lagged.

Ed let out a single trailing curse before casting his weight against the door._ Here I am, the Fullmetal Alchemist: the Fullmetal Door Jam._ The door still stood, so he used it as a crutch. Allowing his eyes to roam around the room, the left side of his body vibrated from the impact. There was no window, nothing but a bed, flowers and candles. It was almost like a funeral, substituting the bed for a casket.

Black. His golden eyes trailed over a splotch of black by the trim on the door. The white wallpaper had chipped away revealing a bottomless piece of paint. The young alchemist used his fingernail to pull up a small piece then with one graceful movement tore off a slash. There was more…

Edward's fatigue wore off as he grasped at the trailing white, ripping it from it's position. The white fled from the walls and drifted like falling snow to the white wooden floor. It allowed the hiding darkness to reveal itself to the golden gaze. The paint swirled around, wrapping in on itself and twisting morbidly around the room. Rapidly he ripped, his heart catching up as his hands continued to grope along the walls, rupturing away the ash to reveal the embers. He kneeled to the ground and dug out the wood, wrenching away the painted floorboards. More black paint peeked out from its hiding place. Desperately he gashed his already bloody and papercut fingers on the wooden floorboards, then fluidly glanced up. His eyes roamed along the ceiling until it found a tail, allowing him to jump up on the bed then hang of the paper until it gave way under his minuscule weight. Like a hole opening in the Heavens, the white cloud gave way to evil black reptiles that curled and snaked their way through the ceiling.

Finally, he stood in the middle of the room and just looked. The black and white wall that ate at the bleak white… it surrounded him and no matter how fast he turned around it was always there. _Like a snake eating it's tail._ His subconscious absently thought. He continued to look around, at the ceiling the down at his feet. There was no end to it. Black, white, black, white, black, it snaked around him until it it enveloped his vision and it was all he saw. Black.

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The train stopped obnoxiously quick, jolting a restless Mustang out of his reverie. Growling, me made to stand up but was stopped by a hand on his wrist.

"Sir, I'm sure it's only a short stop. We will probably be on our way in a few minutes," she said gently. Roy looked into her usually guarded eyes for any sign of this being just some ruse to distract him, but only found a motherly caring in her amber depths. Suddenly feeling like a misbehaving child, he sat down with a curt 'yes'm'. All he received was a slight nod and a microscopic smile. There was a few more moments of aggravated, nonmoving silence. "I've never seen you so upset over someone before, sir." She stated flatly, her eyes never leaving the small book cracked open before her.

Roy was caught for words, but since it was a statement he found himself not answering at all. Obviously she took his silence for a speech and snapped her book shut. She turned to peer at him.

"Sir, this _is_ Edward Elric we're talking about. He didn't get accepted into the military for looking cute or having the mouth of a sailor. He's a prodigy, he can do what most people have never imagined," her thin-lipped frown turned an ounce patronizing. "And if I remember correctly, he tore up the grounds trying to take you out, almost succeeding."

That, Roy had to admit, he hadn't thought of. It suddenly struck him that if the young child was in danger, it was going to take more than a morally challenged lieutenant colonel to get him out of it. Then, he remembered the pictures and clenched his hand around an imaginary suitcase, wishing more than anything that he had one.

"Yeah, but Hawkeye this man is sick. If he gets his hands on Ed- Fullmetal I don't think all the alchemy that boy has in his arms could get him out of it." And that was all he would say on the matter, sealing it off by crossing his arms in a childish gesture in front of his chest. The blonde closed her eyes for a moment before returning to her book.

So, the Flame Alchemist and his companion waited in restless and preoccupied silence for a good half an hour. Just when Riza's grip seemed tight enough to tear a portion out of her book and Roy was fit to cast the train in flames it jerked forward. Lurching forward at a sickeningly slow pace, Mustang grimaced. _So much can happen in thirty minutes._

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With a laugh, he unlocked the door. It opened to reveal a room that had been stripped. The wallpaper had been tore down and it hung limply off the wall and littered the floor like listless and unfeeling snow. The floor had been gored out, and revealed the sign underneath. Frowning slightly, he bent over the unconscious victim and turned his face so he stared at the ceiling with closed eyes. Then, he grinned and slapped the young face.

"You'll have to pay for that, young man! Took a lot of money!" and he laughed, wickedly and uncontrollably. Still chuckling he grasped the golden braid and hauled up the dead weight. "Gorgeous hair! Never seen any like it in my life… I just _had_ to have it!" Then he jerked his head for measure and pulled him out the door. Ecstatically, his whole body vibrated in anticipation. His newest toy out of the box and merely a few flights of stairs away from his playroom.

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_Man…_ that was the only thought Ed had when he awoke. Feeling an awkward kink in his arms, he tried to readjust himself but found the ability past him. In a whir, the room came back to him. _The array!_ His mind hissed at him, and he tugged even harder at his restraints. They were pulled out at an angle above his head and they were so tight they forced his back almost exactly to the wall. His legs were shackled at his ankles and there was no room to move them. His jacket and overcoat been taken, leaving him with only his black tank top. The rock wall was cold against his skin, prompting a shiver.

The Fullmetal Alchemist glanced around the room, seeing the bloodstained walls and the small table and chair. The single light that dangled dirty from the ceiling allowed it's dirty light to glint off something on the table, and with a sick feeling he knew what it was. With a groan, he realized that Mustang had been right. He was the next victim… and there was nothing no one could do about it.

"Who would suspect the mayor?" Ed spat at the door on the far side of the room. It was cracked open a bit and he just knew that Xald would be on the other side. "It's nothing like saying the butler did it!" The door opened to reveal a laughing Xald, and Ed shied away from the crazy smile on his face.

"You're right, little one…"

"Hey, HEY!" Ed shouted, yanking angrily on his restraints. "Who are you calling so short that they can fit through a keyhole?!" he made to lunge at the mayor, but he only laughed harder.

"My, my, what a feisty young man!" he admired the glinting things on the table and Ed jerked even harder.

"You're not so tall yourself there, so I'd watch who I was calling a-" in a flash his voice was cut off by a hand wrapped around his neck and his head was bashed back into the wall. He felt the urge to cough, but he had no air to. Carefully opening a eye he say all mirth had left Xald's face to be replaced by a strange mix of anger and joy. The man's eyes roamed from his gaze to his stomach and Ed fidgeted.

"Ah," he whispered, loosening his grip but using his other hand instead. Gently, he coerced the silver chain into pulling his pocket watch out then jerked it off his pant loop. "Can't have it this brilliant piece of jewelry getting bloody, now can we?" Ed really didn't need the watch, but then he remembered what was in there.

"Hey!" he said, jerking his head forward and biting down on the hand at his throat. Xald jerked away, bringing his hand in to nurse and jerking the watch out of his hand. It skittered listlessly into the wall and popped open. Xald glared at the blond alchemist for a moment before socking him soundly on the ear. Ed hissed and allowed the echoing to pass before glancing up to see where the psycho had gone.

He was crouching over the open watch, eyeing the insides. Xald grabbed the small picture that Ed knew was folded in there.

Flashback

"Hey!" Ed stopped and turned to the oncoming Mustang. He held two ice cream cones and a smile he'd never seen before.

Ed raised a hand in greeting. "Hey, what's with the ice cream?" The Flame Alchemist caught up with him and together they walked down the street. Deftly, he held the cone in his direction while licking at the other one.

"Well, I couldn't find you around Central so I set out looking for you." Ed glanced down at the ice cream and took it. "I got hungry."

"Thanks." He took a test lick, then deciding he liked it took another. "Whacha' want?"

"There are some papers I need you to look at," he must've known the boy for too long, because he quickly followed up with: "and yes, they need to be done now." Ed groaned as they turned the corner to the big building.

"Dang it, Mustang!" he growled, walking up the stairs and throwing open the doors. They climbed up to where his office was and barged in on the small offices before it.

"SURPRISE!" The young alchemist jumped and would've dropped his cone were it not for his unreasonable sweet tooth. Struck by surprise, the only recognizable thing that was said was 'eh'.

A hand found itself in a fatherly place on the back of his golden-haired head as Mustang gave it a good-natured muss. "Happy Birthday, Edward," he rumbled in a kind voice. Ed wanted to growl and shout at him for scaring the daylights out of him or maybe rip his hand out of his hair, but he found himself not really wanting to do either. He couldn't even erase his grin.

"What happened to 'Fullmetal'?" he asked, still grinning. Mustang gave another shake.

"Technically, I'm not on duty, so you aren't either. Meaning, you're just plain old Edward Elric." He laughed. Suddenly, lightening struck inside and Edward blinked. When the dancing black dots finally disappeared he saw Riza Hawkeye glancing at Mustang. Her mouth was microscopically lifted at the corner in a once-in-a-lifetime grin and her eyes were dancing with laughter. She clutched a camera tightly, then closed her eyes and returned to her usual frown.

"Happy Birthday, Edward." Unbeknownst to her, Hughes was sneaking up behind her armed with a tee-pee like Birthday hat. Suddenly, he sprung, snapping the hat on her head and jumping out of her reach before she could impale him.

"Yeah, same here!" he shouted, preoccupied by the livid Hawkeye who had yet to remove the hat.

-

The next day, the film had been developed and the copies were flying around Central. Ed stepped almost reluctantly into Mustang's office, afraid of the picture that would inexplicably be shoved under his nose. The raven lieutenant colonel glanced up from his paperwork and offered his usual smirk.

"Good morning Fullmetal," he said, motioning for him to come closer. The blond stepped forward and took the picture offered to him. Swallowing, he glanced at it. He was grinning and glancing up at Mustang, who in turn had his hand in Ed's hair and a rare true smile on his face. The ice cream cone jutted into the picture. "Not as bad as I was expecting, honestly." He said, partially relieved as he stared at his own copy. Ed sniffed.

"Speak for yourself."

End

Ed vividly remembered folding up the picture and putting it in his pocket watch. He grimaced as Xald smiled at the picture.

"Who's this? Your father?"

Ed felt his heart clench. "No, he may be a jerk but I don't think he could ever be that bad."

"Brother?"

"I've only got one of those."

"Hm… then I imagine he's someone special?" Ed rolled his eyes and glared at him.

"You were closer with your first guess!" Xald smiled syrupy sweet at him.

"So, I imagine he'll be sad at your funeral?"

"Only because it was a waste of a day off."

"I heard you two arguing over the phone." The blond froze, his heart deciding to take a breather for a moment before jogging on. "He's rather loud when he's worried." He stopped and drew closer, clenching the picture into a ball. "I imagine he's on a train right now, speeding to save your golden hide." He sat down next to him, gently thumping his ear. "The tragic thing is… he won't make it in time. The last thing he ever hears from you will be a scream of pain." Ed arched away from him.

"Actually, he's probably sitting back at Central with a hot date tonight." His voice betrayed how little confidence he had in that plan. Xald drew closer still, running a razor sharp fingernail down his neck. Ed really wanted to change the subject.

"Where's my brother!" he shouted, turning to face him. Xald drew back and laughed.

"Typical older brother." His voice bit at the alchemist with patronizing sarcasm. "The last time I saw him he was running to the train station, saying something about he'd know that black hair anywhere." At that, Ed's heart wrapped around itself, confusing itself to the point where it seemed that his brain was getting only oxygen deprived oxygen. _He's here. _That logic kick-started his heart and it fluttered hopefully in his chest. _He came for me._

The happiness must've spread to his face, since Xald clicked his tongue and cupped the young man's chin in his hand.

"No," his voice was low and smooth, it wrapped around the logic and grasped it like a snake grasps a mouse. "He won't make it in time." It squeezed it unforgivingly. "The last thing he'll see from you is the dying flame slowly and painfully flicker out of those gorgeous, golden eyes of yours." It bit the head off, and the mouse bled out and the snake enjoyed every last drop. "Welcome to the dog pound, dog of the military."

* * *

_Well... lookie at that dropoff! It's might steep! Lol, you know the drill: you give review, you get Cyber Starbucks!_


	4. Gorgeous and Silent

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If I forgot anyone's Starbucks, here they are now! And I'm offering Ben and Jerry's too! Eat, read, and be merry!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist._

Roy glanced around the train station, coughing heavily as the train sent a cloud of smog his direction. The small militia following him did the same, but the never bothered Riza did no such thing. Slightly daunted, he rushed off of the small station and tromped through the dirt. Only the sheer number of leering buildings stopped him in his tracks. That lasted for mere seconds then he was dashing to the nearest inn-imitating building.

"Open up!" he shouted, banging on the door. No one answered, in fact it gave the town a desolate feel. This one door that remained unopened… possibly harboring a broken and bleeding, golden headed alchemist. Fighting against the urge to burn down the town around the native's ears, he 'knocked' again, shouting to the stars who he was.

Finally the door cracked open and a haggard old man peered through the slit.

"Yes? How may I help you?"

"Have you seen a young man, about yea tall," he slashed an invisible line at his shoulder. "Golden hair, same for his eyes. Usually accompanied by a man in a suit of armor. The young man is a State Alchemist." The geezer's eyes clouded as he thought for a moment.

"I think I saw him… he was going to speak with the mayor." He began to close the door so Mustang jammed his foot in the crack.

"Where is the mayor?" Nervously, the man jerked his nose in the direction of a tall building.

"That's his office, but he lives in that huge house just on the outskirts of town." Squinting, Mustang could make out the wavering lights gleaming at him. "Will that be all?"

Drawing back, Mustang withdrew his foot and the door almost immediately closed, scratching itself in the hurry to be locked and secure.

"Where shall we go first, sir?" Hawkeye asked, not even looking at him, instead staring down the street with her gun ready. Torn, the lieutenant colonel glanced wearily at the cheery lights to the shadowed office. "It seems more likely if the mayor did anything, he would do it in his office."

"How did you know I was…"

"If he did anything in his house, if it was caught he would be beyond incrimination." She glanced knowingly out of the corner of her amber eyes at him, then darted them back down the road.

"But, if there's a…"

"I know that if there is even a chance, you'll check it out." She interrupted him yet again. "So, you can take the militia with you to check out the mansion. I'll investigate his off…"

"No." Roy interrupted her this time as he stepped off the porch. He imagined the mayor catching Hawkeye alone, then shuddered and shook his head. "You come with me. Why would there need to be a militia at a 'small chance'?" Riza cast her eyes down for a moment, probably just listening vaguely as the Flame Alchemist issued commands to the group. They dispersed and left the two alone.

"Let's get going," Roy commanded gently, running to the mansion.

There was a clanking sound that could only be one thing, or person. Soul, actually. Roy stopped running, watching as the running shadow became a defined suit of armor.

"Lieutenant Colonel!" Alphonse shouted. He finally came to a slowing jog a little ways away then stopped completely before them.

"Alphonse?" Hawkeye asked. "Where's Edward?" He gave a small squeak and stood up straight.

"I think… he's with Xald, but I think he has something to do with those murders!" he panted, his voice rising an octave higher than anything Roy had ever heard.

"Who's Xald?" Mustang flinched, hearing the ringing in his ears begin to pound in his brain.

"The mayor!" The wavering fear in his stomach lashed out and bit at his heart, deciding it was as nice a place as any to curl around and roost.

"Did you come from his house?" Riza's voice was as calm, but under it dread wavered. He didn't seem to have the power to answer, he merely nodded. Mustang whirled around, but found that his small militia was already gone.

"Al, go get the militia. They're investigating his office."

"But I want to help…"

"Do it now!" Roy snapped his voice harsher than he intended it to be. The armored soul flinched microscopically.

"Yes sir," his flat voice answered. He took off in the direction of the office, his armor clanking obnoxiously behind him.

"How do you like that small chance now?" Roy asked dryly, not waiting for an answer before he ran towards the lights that now sneered and mocked him. The buildings slowly became smaller before they distinguished altogether. Closer and closer the house grew, the wind seemingly warning him of the dangers and scenes waiting to pounce inside the house. Upon reaching the door, Mustang realized he didn't have a plan. Just as the keyhole had taunted Alice as she tried to get into Wonderland, the locked door ridiculed him with its mere existence. _But I don't see a bottle or tarts anywhere._ He thought dryly. _Edward might fit…_ he banished the reminiscent, humorous thought as it danced through his mind, along with the picture of the Alchemist throwing a hissy fit before stomping through the hole and then turning around and stabbing it.

"Sir, it would be best if you moved," Hawkeye suggested forcefully, prompting the raven alchemist to move. Her gun exploded as she shot the lock out of its teasing existence. _Now why didn't I think of that?_ He fingered his gun before pulling it out and sliding through the gap in the now ajar door. Meeting him were two stairways and golden beauty. Granite floors and blooming flowers, but what else would he expect?

Immediately he took to the stairs, hearing Hawkeye move softly behind him. Upon reaching the carpeted landing, he took that as an invitation to run to the end of the hallway. Instinct told him to take the door on his right. What he saw proved his instincts correct.

A huge array spread across the room, camouflaged in some spots by white wallpaper. The ceiling was part of the array, even the floorboards. _I've seen this in a book before, it's like a pressure seal, making alchemy impossible to perform in that bedroom. _On closer inspection, Roy noticed small bloodstains on the torn up wooden planks. Mustang could only too easily imagine the wood splintering into the boy's good hand.

Without a word he turned and left the room and Riza behind. A picture flashed into his mind of the sadistic mayor dragging the boy down the hallway, down the stairs, then to Heaven knows where. The fear constricted on his heart as he bottomed out on the stairs and hit a dead end.

He knew… he'd search every square millimeter of the house before he gave up.

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Edward glared up at the mayor, watching his movements and waiting. Unfortunately, that's all he could do. Well, he could cuss and throw a fit but that would probably get him killed even faster. Xald stopped sharpening for a moment before looking at him.

The man shuddered and it looked like he was convulsing. "I can't wait!"

"Oh yeah…" Ed replied sarcastically. He'd tried to be quiet, yet the man still heard him.

"So you're as excited about this as I am?" his eyes held a strange gleam, and even though he wanted to flinch away in a corner, or maybe a suitcase, and hide, he held his ground and merely turned his head to the side.

"Not particularly," he snorted. There was a breathy chuckle that sent Edward's fear on edge and sent a shiver rattling down his spine, then jumping back up with impeccable speed.

"Good."

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The flickering candles hardly gave off enough light to illuminate the hallway, and as Mustang glanced along the walls for any hidden fault he couldn't help shudder at the endless shadows stringing along the corners. Soon the hallway ended abruptly and the dead end nearly swallowed in shadows glared at him. Quickly he was backtracking, checking doors and glancing quickly around the rooms. Strangely, every room was white.

Starch, cold, and lifeless.

There was a single candle in each room, but it was hardly enough to illuminate it fully. Finally, one room blossomed with the fruit of his labors.

The closet door across the room was opened, but just a crack. Every other room was nit-picky and tidy, but the wooden floor in this one had a scratch that stretched from the door to the closet. It marred the dull white floor and blared out like a signal.

Trembling, he made his way to the door and pulled it open further. A dark staircase descended down, disappearing into a shadow of the unknown. Almost… it seemed like the shadows may have very well swallowed up the small alchemist. He was down there, he just knew it.

_Even if you're not, I won't stop._ With that promise weighing heavily on his mind, he took the first step into Oblivion.

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He took a step forward, pressing his thumb none-too-gently to the edge of his rusty blade. It stung but it made his joy rise. Gently… caressing… he picked up the new, silver knife gleaming sadistically up at him. There was a seemingly muffled sniff from his toy, and he finally graced him with the pleasure of his obstinate golden eyes. For a moment, one delicious moment, that steely determination wavered and was replaced by a striking fear. Just as quickly as a bolt of lightening it disappeared, but it still gave hope to him. It was there, that wonderful, blissful fear was there, and no matter how many layers he'd have to shave off… he'd get it.

After a moment he leant down beside the Alchemist. Like the usual status quo, he turned away. _I can't have that._ He snapped his hand under the chin and jerked it towards him. The aureate pleat flew around his shoulder and landed, prompting shudders through his body. He'd waited forever for that gold… that crimson… and now he had it.

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Finally, a dusty light found it's way into the descending stairway. Murky and nearly yellow it illuminated through a rectangle window. Immediately he found himself peering through it.

The room was small, but a table dominated it. Wicked knives stood out on the table, gleaming through their rust. A man kneeled to the ground had his back to the window. Slowly, he readjusted himself and the knives in his free hand gleamed, one rusty and the other new. The chin of a young boy preoccupied his other hand. Aureate, his middle jerked away from the man and he struggled against the hand like a skittish horse. The knives clashed to the ground and he caressed the braid that flowed flaxen over his shoulder. Finally, the golden eyes that had dashed endlessly around the room stopped and ebony met ochroid.

Faster than instantaneously, Roy clenched the doorknob and turned. It clicked but didn't even budge. There now seemed to be an argument going on in the room, and the man turned to glance at him. His face turned into a disfigured grin then his back was to him again. Suddenly he remembered the gun in his hand and aimed for the door. The door cracked open and he pushed at the door. By the time it flashed across the vision of the scene before him, the man had grabbed the knives and pressed one to Ed's chest, while the other danced lustily across his neck.

"Took you long enough, I was about to start without you."

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Ed felt the blade pricking insistently at his neck, while the other dug into his chest minutely. It would've been a miracle if he could breathe and not prick himself, one he found out wasn't coming true. He held his breath as much as he could, but it was hard when your heart was trying to jump out of your chest. _He came. I can't believe he actually moved,_ then he remembered the worry in the man's voice as he had called him.

In fact, Mustang was seething. His hands clenched around his gun while his jaw tightened and set his mouth into a grim line. The gun wavered at the mayor, but the knives stood stoic on his skin. The lieutenant colonel wouldn't meet his eyes, they were drilling instead into Xald.

"I thought you said he was going to see me dead," Ed hissed sarcastically at Xald. It wasn't loud enough for Mustang to hear, thankfully. Xald sniffed in response.

"Ahh… lieutenant colonel Mustang, I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." He gave a chuckle and a shudder of anger ran through Mustang. "But then I saw that _adorable_ picture of you two, and I knew that there was no way you couldn't come," with those words spoken as though he meant only good intentions he threw a crumpled up wad at him. It landed at his feet, yet Mustang made no move to pick it up. "Oh, you might as well pick it up." He readjusted the knife upward and positioned himself above it. "If you shoot me, I'll collapse on the blade and it'll rupture his newly healed heart." The gun finally wavered and he lowered it yet didn't put it up. Mustang bent down and picked up the paper wad.

"Newly healed?" Mustang whispered, gently unfolding the picture. As soon as he opened it, his hands clenched the paper, nearly tearing it, and his eyes filled with anguish. With a rustle, the knife at his throat dropped.

"Oh yes. For the longest time, I'm sure this poor little boy expected you to come, but when you took too long he began to slowly lose hope. It probably broke his poor… little… heart," with each of those last words, he gave a soft pat, and on the last word he gave a full-force slap that sent his mind rattling and eyes spinning.

A feral snarl ripped through Mustang. It rippled through his stomach and he seemed to vibrate, yet he stopped it in his throat and it came out in a wavering deadly edge on his words, "I highly doubt that." He gave a stab at a smirk, but failed as the picture in his grasp crackled obnoxiously. "Probably didn't even think I was coming."

"I expected you to have a date," Edward threw out there, smirking cheekily at the raven man before him. Mustang chanced a glance at him, but the look he held had no levity. Xald, though, seemed to be full of it.

Roughly, Xald grabbed Edward's chin and made him look at him. Then, he turned his gaze to Roy, forcing them to meet each other's gaze. The knife dug a little deeper into his skin, and he gave a small grunt.

"No. No, no, no, not at all!" Edward jerked his head back, but the mayor's grip was iron. "You should've seen the look in his eyes when he finally figured out that you were worried about him. Then, when I told him you wouldn't make it in time," Xald took the time to give a breathy chuckle that blew hot on the side of his face. Edward threw his gaze to the floor, ashamed that his feelings were being thrown out in the air like that. "It was gorgeous! All the hope drained and he was scared. This obstinate little _boy_ was frightened. He knew he was going to die."

"But I did make it in time," Mustang snapped.

The laughter from Xald was patronizing and loud, "In time for what?" That snapped Mustang, he began to move forward, but Xald beat him to action. He dropped Ed's chin, then picked up the other knife. Using it, he punched Ed in the gut, his fist and the sharp side of the sword impacting with his stomach. The knife sliced through his shirt and cut into his softer stomach. Ed winced, but bit the inside of his lip to keep from crying out. A whip of pain slashed through his body, then dulled to a warm throbbing that resounded from his stomach. Along with keeping in the pained cry, he kept his barrage of colorful words at bay. "To see that?" he asked sarcastically.

"You're sick," Mustang rumbled, like a feral dog chained and a steak just out of his reach.

"Aww, compliments will get you nowhere!" he gushed, allowing the knife to dig deeper into Edward's chest. "In fact, it'll just get you back from where you came from."

Mustang let the air out in a rush instead of answering.

"I want you to put down your gun and take off your gloves, leave them in a small pile on the floor at your feet and scurry back up the stairs."

"Excuse me?" Roy asked, fingering his gun again and raising a hand. "What's to keep me from burning your miserable hide to a pile of ashes?"

"You must already know or you wouldn't be making empty threats," Xald gave a lazy shrug and pushed closer to Edward. "But just to fill you in, it's because you know if you catch me on fire the little boy here you came miles to save will just burn up with me. Imagine being so close, yet so far," he chided softly and Edward thought he saw a wave of terror and déjà vu flash past the lieutenant colonel's face. "Now, just set down the gun." Slowly and jerking like a wind-up toy, the gun was placed at his feet. "Kick it to me," and that's just what happened. It skidded to a halt at Xald's knee and he picked it up, examining it happily.

Edward's heart dropped to his stomach at the happy sadistic look on his tormentor's face. Mustang saw the look too, and clenched his hand around an imaginary gun.

"Oh, poor you," Xald cooed, placing a hand gently on Edward's cheek and meeting his gaze though really speaking to Mustang. Edward stood his ground… but noticed the kiss of the gun on his ankle.

The bullet lodged itself in Edward's ankle, and a scream lodged in his stomach for a few moments. He clamped his lips closed and waited for the boiling to die down before letting out a trembling groan. He cursed in Xald's face and the man smashed the boy's head against the wall again. Dots danced in his sight and the edges began to grow fuzzy.

"Hey!" Mustang snapped, stepping forward only to stop again by the threatening knife at his chest.

"Now the gloves!" Xald was giddy, he was officially in his element and Edward saw his life slowly going downhill. While Mustang slowly pulled off his gloves, the mayor touched the Fullmetal Alchemist's ankle none too gently before pulling away two thoroughly bloody fingers. Delicately, caressing, he ran his fingers over the braid still hanging over his shoulder. It left a crimson and shining trail over the gold and Ed's vision slowly faded in and out.

"There," Xald laughed as he glanced proudly up at Mustang. "Now isn't that the most beautiful boy you've ever seen in you're whole life? Silent… golden… brilliant… _bloodied_…" Ed vaguely felt the hand under his chin and his superior saying something; but he couldn't concentrate. The knife pressed harder and Edward tuned back in. A warm breath assaulted his face as Xald hissed gently in his ear, "Let's give him a show."

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_Geez, I think I have a phobia of wrapping up my stories. (I know there's no such thing, but still...) I hope you liked the chappy!_

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	5. Cannon Fodder

_Oh my gosh! Thank you so much for all your reviews and favorites and alerts! I appreciate them so much! I'm glad you like this story!_

_Disclaimer: I do now own Fullmetal Alchemist. It is property of it's respected author.

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Step after step, they echoed quietly down the stairs, but Mustang hardly noticed them. He was too engrossed with fury at the sight of the mayor, Xald, whispering into his protégé's ear. It ate at him, unable to hear what was being said and only being able to concentrate on the now louder footsteps. Then it struck him, they sounded strangely familiar and distinctly…

_Hawkeye,_ he thought, narrowing his eyes at the thought. He'd all but forgot she was there. If she showed up, things might just blow up. _Like they could get any worse._ He examined the gloves in an abandoned pile on the floor, irritation nagging at him.

The footsteps slowed, but didn't come to a stop. Xald ceased whispering, his eyes narrowing and the knife prompting a grunt out of Edward. The mayor's head whipped to stare, not at Mustang but just to the left of his ear.

"There was only supposed to be you…" the man's voice hissed out in a rough snap and sounded to be like he was talking to himself. "There was only supposed to be you!" he repeated in a shout. Xald reached for the blade at his feet and pulled it back. At first, Mustang thought he was going to kill Edward and it was going to be all over, but then he continued to rear back and the lieutenant colonel knew that Edward wasn't the target; Hawkeye was.

With a flourish, Mustang turned and caught the lock-less door on his heel. He snapped it closed and it slammed in Hawkeye's face, just as the knife flew threw the air and dug itself into the wood. As quickly as it slammed, it reverberated and bounced back, attacking the wall with ferocity only slightly less than before.

Hawkeye stood, slightly dumfounded, in the doorway with her gun lowered to her waist. She blinked once, twice, and then took in the scene with a practiced eye. After a moment, she frowned.

"Mayor," she acknowledged, though the forced respect at his title was overshadowed tenfold by the wintry frost in those two syllables. Xald's face split in a deranged grin and he waved the gun around in the air.

"Finally! Some respect around here!"

"You lost the right to respect some time ago, old man!" Edward snapped, his lips pulling back in a fierce snarl. The mayor's joy seemed to slip and he turned back to the captive boy.

"Why? Because my hobbies are the same as yours? Just under different circumstances?" his voice was oddly cold and he slammed the but of the gun against Edward's temple. The boy's eyes hazed over for a second before snapping back to gold.

"I don't de-bone people!" Edward's rebuttal was slurred like a drunken man's.

"But you kill them! Even if they're innocent, it doesn't matter to you!" Xald's voice had risen to a shout as he leered down at Edward.

Mustang couldn't stand to watch any more damage come to the boy, a boy who hadn't been through all of the casualties of war yet so much more, so he held his arms up quickly. "That's war." He said softly, for some unknown reason thinking that it would bring peace. Of course it didn't.

"Well this is too!" he snapped, dropping the gun. The shock to it prompted another bullet to explode from it, and this time it lodged into Edward's side. And this time, he couldn't hold back the pained whimper.

It cut into the already slowly forming rift in Mustang's heart and just broke that part off, allowing it to float into limbo. The mayor didn't even seem to notice that he'd done that, instead pulling a piece of chalk out of his pocket and jotting down on the rocks.

"Drop the chalk!" Hawkeye commanded. Xald did drop the chalk, but then pressed his palm to the circle. A convulsion swept through the room, shaking the ceiling and undulating the floor. Like a bomb, it exhaled and then inhaled, sweeping the shudder back to the source, the circle. For a second no one dared to breath and then a wave blew out.

It started slow and small, then the rocks shifted up on the tsunami as it grew and formed a wall. Mustang realized after a while that he only had two choices: get smashed into the wall or go back into the hallway. So he ducked into the hallway just as the wave joined forces with the wall. It morphed then let out a groan before shifting and blocking the doorway.

"Sir, are you okay?" Mustang ignored her question; was he okay? _He _wasn't the one stuck in a room with a psycho now, happily holding a gun. _He _wasn't chained to a wall, watching everything happen yet not being able to do anything about it. _He_ wasn't the one who was going to die because the person who was supposed to protect him had backed out.

Then a shudder ran down his back, a spine-chilling, mind stopping, heart wrenching shudder brought on by a single, trailing scream that lingered in the air and fizzled for a moment before disappearing to Riza, but never to Roy.

"_Mustang!_"

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The knife trailed mercilessly through his stomach, circling for a moment before slashing upward and dancing up his arm. Edward hadn't meant to scream, he had never meant to scream because it would just give Xald the satisfaction.

_"I want you to say his name." Xald had hissed once the surge of alchemy had efficiently closed up the doorway. "I want you to make him _know_ you're going through pain. It's hurting you, and you need to tell him about it."_

_"I don't know what you're talking about. You're even more psychotic than I thought. Whose name?" He asked, playing at the aggravatingly annoying boy. Xald had merely smiled and toggled with the knife._

_"Mustang."_

_Edward had meant to repeat the word and ask it as a question, still annoying, yet it was at that time that Xald stabbed him, dragging the scream out of the hidden recesses of his mind and expelling it into the stagnant air._

"You sadistic creep," Edward snarled, but it came out in a sob as his voice was saturated with his pain.

"What did I tell you?" The Fullmetal Alchemist felt his braid run along his throbbing cut like a paint brush. "About flattery?" Then the blood-soaked tip brushed past his face, leaving a paint mark on his face. The mayor took the fastener out of the end of the braid, and it fell apart in a cascade of ochroid.

"What's with your sick fascination with hair?" Ed gasped, snapping his head and making his hair fall over his shoulder and in-between the wall and his back. Xald gave a wide grin and stood, stretching like a cat before meandering over the table.

"My father," he started, picking up a wicked knife and examining it in the light. "He was a barber. He loved nothing more than to see the different colors, feel the different textures, and make the person feel new and improved when he was finished."

"There's a rather big shift in-between the two of you," the young boy interjected with a snort. Snapping his hand, Xald sent a knife fling through the air and clanging against the wall a hair's breath away from his ear.

"No interruptions, please." he paused again to pick up a small knife. "His favorite was always blond. But, you should know better than anyone that there are different shades in that category."

"Uh, sure. I've dabbled in art. I'm a regular Picasso," Edward stated sarcastically.

"Not art, you insolent little twerp. I mean hair colors!" In a flash Xald was beside Ed, with a handful of hair in his grasp as he yanked it from the roots. "Yours! It's the most beautiful color I've ever seen! I never expected a color like yours to come to this small town, but here, you, are!" He laughed happily.

"Whoopdy-freaking-doo!" It came out through Edward's gritted teeth. With a hand still twisted in the boy's locks, Xald jerked his hand back and made his head collide with the wall. The boy let out a growl, and the mayor repeated the motion. Again and again and again.

Each new collision made pain explode in Edward's temple, and his vision blurred like someone had wiped a dirty rag over his eyes. It was like the finale to a fireworks show, as each new bout of pain lit up lights behind his clenched eyelids. Slowly, the pain dulled and everything in his body died down to a dull roar before shutting up entirely.

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He stared down at the boy, the smile slowly dying from his face. The blond had gone out, like a small little flame. Which was, as a matter of speaking, exactly what he was. Young, volatile, and wavering on the edge of either going out or filling out with light.

Too bad the room didn't need any more light. In fact, it could do with a little less.

The unconscious boy's body sagged into the restraints and the hairs popped as a few stray ones broke from their hold. _Huh_, he thought as he pulled his hand back and examined the dozens of hairs in his grasp, _guess I got a souvenir. _The laughter from the mayor echoed around the room, but the seemingly lifeless body didn't see the levity in it all.

_Well, this'll be no fun,_ he ruminated as he kicked at the prisoner's bound feet. What's the fun of messing with an unfeeling blond? _Nothing!_ He glared balefully at the impromptu door. _Well, unless someone else is watching, but it's not like THAT'S gonna happen._

It was that stupid blonde's fault! Everything was going fine before she came along! He smiled dreamily at the thought of what could've happened, then winced at what did happen.

Even if Mustang wasn't going to join the play date, he'd still have some fun. Besides, he never was good at sharing his toys.

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Edward remembered floating in and out of consciousness, the constant flickers of his life that faded to black like the end of a roll of film. Alas, even the velvety black of unconsciousness couldn't keep away the unending pain. This out-of-body experience felt more like his whole body was being stabbed by pins and needles every second. Vaguely over the unending agony, he thought he felt his arm, _more likely than not the flesh and bone one, _being shredded. One such brush with consciousness (one that actually made sense to his inchoate mind) showed him that he was being pricked like a voodoo doll, small knives stabbing into his body while blood marked outlines for Heaven knows what. It struck him like the picture he'd seen in the cookbook in Xald's office.

_Then, last you remove the bone… _the small picture had a cow, its chops and legs marked with dotted lines. _A cooking mayor…_ Oh Dear Lord, he wasn't cooking.

"Stoppit!" he slurred, but his small mutter sent a wave of pain through his head and an involuntary whine followed it.

"But I'm not done!" It was a pathetic argument, made even more so by the ridiculously immature pout on the man's face. That was all that Edward stayed tune for, and the dirge that led him to unconsciousness was a rolling earthquake, undulating like footsteps across the ceiling.

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Roy and Riza glanced up at the ceiling simultaneously, narrowing their eyes at the stomping. The echoing footsteps indicated the army men marching through the house. A louder, tinnier clanking sounded as Alphonse lead them. Fluttering like a caged bird, Mustang's heart began to see things more optimistic.

"Sir, it seems Alphonse has arrived with reinforcements," she stated, her voice hopeful. Mustang's boots clapped as he stalked up the stairs and burst open the closet door.

"Alphonse!" he called to the hallway. The marching stopped and Mustang called again, "Alphonse!" The men picked up their pace as they wound through the hallways and Al popped into the room.

"Mustang! Where's Bro…" he trailed off as he examined Roy's gloveless hands. Clenching his fists and trying to ignore the absence of the thin, white material, he jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. "What happened?"

"We don't have time!" And he disappeared back into the darkness, hoping that the younger brother would get the hint. He did, as indicated by his clanging footsteps. Halfway down, they met Hawkeye on her way up, and she silently joined their parade.

"Is brother on the other side?" Alphonse asked, upon reaching the bricked-up doorway. It took only a silent nod from Mustang for him to run up, raising his fist to punch at the wall.

"Wait!" the leiutenant colonel grabbed his clenched fist. "If you go banging on the door, he'll only get madder. We've got to think of a plan, albeit very quickly and one that's easy to remember."

"It would be easier if we could look inside and see what's going on," Hawkeye said, edging it with a suggestion aimed at Alphonse.

"Oh, right!" The soul-filled suit searched for the chalk he always kept on him, and upon finding it, drew a small circle on the rock wall. Gently, he tapped his hands together then placed them vertically with the wall, lighting the hallway briefly with the alchemic light. The light and thin veil of dust cleared to reveal a small hole, big enough to see through, but small enough to be missed if you weren't looking for it. Al bent to look in it, but Roy go there first.

"I'll look," he said, placing his palm over the hole both to keep the brother from looking and to keep Xald from hearing. Confused, the young boy drew back.

"Why?" Roy didn't answer, but Hawkeye placed a gentle hand on the metal shoulder.

"Just trust him," she placated gently. Al glanced from the blonde to the raven, and gave a grunt before moving back.

Mustang took a deep breath and exhaled it sharply before squinting closed one eye and looking with the other. And there he was; the brazen, golden-haired protégé with a past as dark and bloody red as his clothes… marked up like a cow to the slaughter.

The man took in a slightly shuddering breath and blinked before staring again. Instead of a marker or paint marking off certain pieces of meat, blood took it's place, trailing around his exposed skin and collecting in a pool around his almost dead looking body. Only the sporadic heaving of his chest proved that he was, indeed, alive. Not so much kicking. Roy's heart seemed to be ripping itself up into confetti.

For a brief moment, Edward's eyelids fluttered open and revealed his slightly hazed golden eyes. The two dulled golden eyes roamed around the room, and then closed again.

"So?" Al's voice was high with anticipation. "What's going on?" Roy tried to concentrate on the scene as Xald entered, but found himself unconsciously drawing back and placing a hand over the hole.

He was a coward, couldn't watch it but he sure could do it. _I'm not a sadist, I wouldn't torture anybody…_

"Lieutenant Colonel!" He finally turned to face the younger sibling of his early scene actor. "What's going on in there?" The boy's voice was now desperate.

Purposely ignoring the younger brother, he turned to Hawkeye, and told her in a formal tone. "Edward is at the wall, and Xald's position keeps changing. He keeps going from the table, and back to the wall."

"If there was a distraction on one side of the room, someone could knock down the door and shoot him." Hawkeye planned, her voice lowered so as not to carry over through the door.

"If we made a small explosion on one side of the room, Xald would run over, and we'd be free to enter," Mustang deepened the plan, talking over Alphonse's comments.

"I can handle that!" Al finally burst into the conversation, slightly aggravated at having been ignored for so long. "And getting rid of the door." And if that suit of armor could've grinned, it would've been of Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Okay, lieutenant colonel, light this when you hear the explosion," Alphonse directed, handing the slightly bemused man a fuse. Holding it with one hand, Mustang reached into his pocket and replaced one of his lost incinerating gloves. "I'll go up to where we agreed and then, well, I guess we'll see how it works."

"It'll work fine!" Mustang said through clenched teeth, still slightly worried that the plan might fail. He shook his head, physically clearing his mind of the images. Al seemed slightly taken aback by the ferocity in him, yet he took it in stride and ran back up the stairs, squishing the soldiers that were now in a line one wide against the wall.

Desperately, Mustang fought at the urge to reach over and grasp Hawkeye's hand, if just for a little reassurance as the minutes dragged by. The silence was unnerving, but not as bad as Edward's scream. He glanced at Riza out of the corner of his eyes, watching as she nervously tapped the side of her gun.

Then it happened. An explosion erupted in the quiet, filling the air with a slightly electric buzz. With a snap the fuse in Roy's grasp lit and it fizzed down to the cannon, filling the minute hallway with an echoing explosion that rattled the Flame Alchemist's eardrums. The cannon ball-esque substance dissolved after it blew through the door, and he ran through, regardless of the billowing smoke and thick dust.

Roy ran until his outstretched palm came in contact with the course wall, and then he felt along the wall until he came in contact with the shockingly cold hand of Edward. Just then it hit him that he had no way to open the manacles that held the Fullmetal Alchemist to the wall.

"Fullmetal!" he hissed as he kneeled down beside the unconscious boy, tugging on the restraints the whole time. A gun went off, and another wave of electricity fizzled in the air but he was preoccupied. "Edward! Wake up, you hear me? That's an order!"

Two hands grasped his shoulders and threw him across the room, making him slam into the wall. "Too bad he was never good at following orders." Mustang glared up at Xald, watching as he grasped at his shot arm. The Flame Alchemist turned to look at the door, and say another rock wall where the other had been demolished. Grinning, Xald pulled a key out of his pocket and swiftly unlocked the boy. Roy prepared to incinerate the man, then stopped as the mayor grasped Ed's loose hair and held him off the ground by it. "That's right," he cooed patronizingly. "You can't touch me." And then Xald propped Edward up in the air, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him from wavering. "I'm still in control."

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_Yeah, I know what you're all thinking. I'm never going to end this story, but I promise you it is winding up! Sad to say, this story was actually fun to write (I promise I'm not sadistic!)_


	6. Tactics

_I'm so sorry for the time it took me to update this! I've just been kind of busy and such. I would like to thank everyone for they're reviews and favorites and everything! I hope you enjoy this chappy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. It belongs to it's respective author.

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_Why won't this end?_

_ Mustang?! Where are you? It's dark…_

_ He, he, he…_

Once again, the distraught leiutenant colonel felt the young man whisking out of his hands he was now clenching against the craggy bricks. Somehow, the image of Xald raising a hand to a wall, creating a doorway was lost to him until the all-too-familiar cackle had left the room and was off in the crudely made tunnel.

The cajoling laughter was enough to practically throw Mustang off the ground. He clenched at his gloves, desperately trying to keep his last sane piece of mind in tack, for Edward's sake as much as his own. For hardly a second he stood, then he was off running after the young boy and _him._

Just before entering the threshold of the tunnel, Mustang heard his own name, muffled and urgent, yet it wasn't Edward's voice that shouted. Swirling on his heel, he did a 180 and turned to face the now smooth wall that once held a door.

"Leiutenant colonel!" It was Hawkeye.

A sense of urgency rose in Mustang. "What's wrong?"

There was a small beat. "What's going on over there?" A sense of relief, however minute, washed over the tormented man before he turned back on his heel.

"Just go outside and surround this house, I'm sure he'll be coming out inside or somewhere around it. Keep an eye on the terrain around it!" he demanded before running through the still-lingering veil of dust. It coated his throat and he swallowed, trying to get rid of the irritation. _Like getting rid of Edward…_

It all seemed too… ironic. He hadn't wanted it to happen, yet whenever it was brought up he laughed it off as saying 'he was never that lucky'. _I think Lady Luck's just changed my whole outlook on women._

A small portion of his mind was calculating the distance between him and Xald, and he knew he must've been coming up on him. A man that small, plus Edward's weight… against a trained military officer.

The cave walls almost seemed to be getting narrower, but it had nothing to do with sight. Roy's eyes had yet to adjust to the murky darkness, but there was that certain feeling that something's close to you, call it 6th sense or intuition, whichever. The thick scent of earth was all Mustang could smell, and it filled up every recess of his mind as he ran and drank in the almost tangible air.

Huffing as the air became thicker, Roy continued to run through the stagnate air, noticed the strange lack of an exit… if there was one close to the house.

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He ran, his breath hitching occasionally, half in lack of air and half in want of laughter. The body in his grasp lolled in it's still slumber, it's heartbeat beating next to his. Albeit, it was like the race of the tortoise and the hare… and the hare was slowly, torturously, slowing down.

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It was dark, but not just any dark. It was thick like a resin, yet smooth like melted silk sliding over the skin of a baby. It was endless, trailing and cascading incessantly through his murderously tortured consciousness.

Edward grunted, and by the way it echoed through the night, he could tell he had actually done it outside his personal prison. He felt his body jostle, yet he hadn't moved.

He remembered fainting, he remembered everything up to that point. And, besides not knowing what's going on and, not so metaphorically, being in the dark, he was thankful. The pain had been unbearable, but there was a small bit of hope left. He was unconscious, he had no clue who he was with or where he was, so there was always that chance that he was with Mustang. Safe from everything except the mortifying embarrassment at having to have been saved.

There was a sudden droning in the distance, like the sound of thousands of bees. Yet it had a beat to it, like it was a song instead of a random reverberation. _Rather random song,_ for it certainly wasn't like any song he'd ever heard.

Edward focused on it, listening for anything familiar. It seemed to get clearer, but then it didn't. So, the prodigy bit his lip, clenched his fists and focused harder. Like tuning a radio, it finally came in, slow and only for a few moments.

"…-ave gotten a tad bit messy. I'll finish you up when we get…" _Crap…_

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Mustang gave a sharp cough, the dust in the tunnel finally getting to his lungs. He continued to doggedly run, though, his pace never slowing. A sudden draft of cold air nearly stopped him in his tracks, but instead he sped up. A feeling of victory spread from the pit of his stomach outward, filling him with a warm feeling.

The air began to grow more abundant, giving Mustang's rush kindling. Finally, it felt almost like he was standing outside. Just as he was about to stop and get his bearings, something else came up.

He let out a string of curses, holding his nose and stumbling back from a wall of dirt. A few stray specks of brown dirt showed down on him, offsetting the jet black of his hair. With a jerk, Mustang shot his head up to look at the sky, satisfied to see a circle of glowing stars. For a moment he forgot what he was doing, but then he quickly remembered at the sound of thuds on the surface.

The exit wasn't that far above him, probably just an Edward's height. Roy gave a small grunt before scrunching down and leaping up. His fingers scratched against flat Earth. _How the heck did he get up there?_ As he jumped again, his fingers found small bumps, like on a rock-climbing wall. For a moment, the Lieutenant Colonel felt a little stupid for no seeing them before, but now it was obvious that there was a ladder of bumps on the wall.

After that realization, he was out of the tunnel in an instant, breathing in the clean night air. He had no time to savor it, though. He stared ahead and was gratified to see a lumpy shadow blotting out the deep, navy blue skyline. A plan immediately popped into his mind.

For a moment, he took a deep breath, steadying himself for the rush of energy needed. He made out the plan in his head, pushed two of his fingers together, then willed the flames to do is bidding a moment before a single, solitary snap cut the silence in the air, freezing Xald in the distance.

A streak ran through the air, violently red, yet gorgeously warm. It dropped in front of Xald and Edward, sparking a fire against the non-existent grass. It snapped up to the mayor's height then a few feet beyond. Once it reached that, it began to snake away. Like a dove unfolding it's wings, it reached out on either side of the two ahead. It lit up the sky, violently blocking out the stars and blurring the edges as it licked at the blue, shining with the sun's same intensity as it breaks in a soft dawn. It continued to extend, rapidly reaching Roy and arching inward. The two flaming snakes conjoined no more than a foot behind the alchemist, the whoosh it made as it ate and blocked out the night air flapping his hair and clothes. The circle of flame didn't do much in the way of lighting. As Xald turned around, the flames lit his back and emblazoned his form in a pitch black shadow.

"Why… hello." Xald said, his voice high-pitched and mellow. He took a step forward and Edward slid off his back, landing in the dust and on the mayor's foot. The flames licked only three feet from his fallen body. The heat made the air hazy and thick, yet Mustang breathed it in just as easily as breathing in the purest oxygen. Quickly, Xald dropped and picked up the boy, gripping his shoulders like his life depended on it, which it very well did. "I see you successfully made a circle of fire. Where's your tiger to jump through it?" He paused and gripped the blond even tighter. "Or maybe it's him."

"You throw him through there, you lose your shield." Mustang said, his voice thick as it went through the heated air. Xald's invariable smile dropped for a moment, and in that moment Roy took a step forward. As the distance between him and the wall of fire grew, it sucked in on itself. The fire stayed only about a foot from Roy. "Admit it Xald, I'm in control, there's nothing you can do and nowhere you can run."

As soon as Xald's face lost it's luster, it gained it once again, just not nearly as real as it had been. "I've still got the boy! You can't deny that!" His voice was strained and a bit crazed. The fire ring flickered for a moment, pillars of flames disappearing for a moment to make the circle appear like a peppermint. "And you're losing your touch."

Mustang's stone face broke for a moment as the side of his mouth twitched upward like that of a dead fly. "Maybe, or maybe not." Over the sizzling of the fire, there was a click and then a blast that echoed through the still night.

Xald's face dropped, becoming emotionless, then the firewall and he fell at the same time. The veil of crimson fell to reveal Hawkeye standing there, with her gun aimed directly at Xald's leg. As soon as the mayor hit the ground, he let out a scream. The officers standing in wings around Riza surged forward then, grabbing him by his arm above his elbows and hauling him up. There was a scratching clink as handcuffs found a new home.

Mustang went first to Edward, rolling him over and examining him. _Scratches… bruises… probably a year's worth a therapy, but he's been needing to go for awhile anyway._ Gently, he slid his arms under the boy's knees, then put the other under his neck and lifted him up.

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A sense of peace avalanched down over the silky black. For a moment, Edward thought he was dead, but then he was jostled slightly, and there was warmness in his stomach. _Am I safe?_ He asked himself mentally. A sudden drowsiness instantly caused the young boy's eyes to droop. Then, he was asleep… or dead…

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

It was over… he'd lost. HE had been ahead, there was no way that stupid man could've caught up to him. No way… it wasn't possible… not even probable…

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

The young boy was light, but that was obvious by his slender frame. Mustang turned to face the man, but stayed a safe distance in front of him.

"You won fair and square. You get the prize." Xald stared longingly at the blond hair cascading over Roy's arm.

"He's not a prize," Mustang snarled, then changed his humor. "And I'm not the only one getting a prize. You get something fairly big; it's square and eight by ten. Have any guesses?"

Xald gave a small smile, "Ah, you seem to misunderstand me. You get the prize, but you don't get to keep the prize." Then, the soldiers jerked the man away, tugging him one way, then the other. Mustang secretly hoped that his arm got pulled out of socket.

Roy turned so no one could see his face. He stared down at Ed's peaceful face, shocked that anything could look so innocent covered and painted in his own blood.

"Well…" he muttered as he recalled his conversation with the young prodigy that sent him here. "Guess it was a different tactic."

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_Well... there you have it. There is only one chappy left after this one, so this story is in it's downward arch. I hoped you liked this chapter and I hope to have the next one up soon. I'm also planning to have a sequel of sorts. Don't know why I put that this here, but just thought I'd let you know._


	7. Going Out with a Cut

_Well... this is it. I'm actually kind of sad to see it done. I really appreciate everyone's enthusiasm and I'm glad you've stuck with me this long! *gives everyone cookie* This is my first actual full-plot-line story. (I think I've gone up to 2 chapters). To finish, anyway._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. It belongs to it's respective author.

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"You… are hopeless. You're brainless and you seem to think I'm mentally unbalanced."

A sigh. "I'm helpful, have a brain, and you are mentally unbalanced." Edward seethed like a volcano for the fifth time that day, but this time collapsed in the chair and proceeded to curse out the dust particles floating lazily through the air.

"I don't want to do this," he muttered under his breath, his voice slightly begging.

Mustang raised an eyebrow and shot him a look. "Maybe if you ask me nicely…" Edward gave a childish pout, crossed his arms over his chest, and huffed.

"Yeah right, I'm not asking you for anything. And there's nothing about me that's nice!"

"You're going to go to the library, push papers, and hopefully get a papercut." Roy sighed. "Even you can't get in trouble at the library."

Edward, being as he was indeed Edward, stood up and planted his palms firmly on his superior's desk. "Wanna bet? I'll blow the whole place up!" His golden eyebrow arched impishly, an unspoken challenge. Roy's eyebrow copied the movement and they were once again in a staring contest.

"Just make sure you don't blow up that pocket watch, we reuse those things you now." Ochroid broke away first, he spun around, his hair spinning out before landing on his back.

Mustang's breath hitched for a moment, remembering just last week. The bandage and reddish tinge to the back of his head didn't help things. There was an obvious limp in the boy's walk, the wound caused by the bullet still paining him (but he was too stubborn to carry a crutch). He swallowed roughly before noticing that Edward was actually speaking, his voice taunting and cocky, sure to the core, "…blow up the whole town." The young boy stalked towards the door, placing a gloved hand on the knob, a hand that's wrist had a small bulge from the bandage wrapped around to keep the infection from getting worse (shackles can be pretty sharp).

Mustang gave a small cough, just a clearing of the throat, but it was enough to make Edward stop. "Oh, and while you're out there blowing up the town," his voice was it's usual dry tone, "try not to get yourself blown up." For a moment Edward stood there, then he turned his head just enough to peer at Mustang with one golden eye.

"Whatever you say."

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_Yes, I know it's short, but it' s just a wrap-up chapter. There is definitely going to be a sequel. I'm thinking, title-wise, along the name of Fracture, or something. So, I hope to see you soon and I thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the ride!_


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